Lessons from Ziggy

Though Ziggy was our second dog, he has been my greatest teacher so far. Here are just some of his lessons.

Ziggy sporting a tie

You’re their Advocate

Regardless of whether you view yourself as a pawrent, owner, or guardian, you’re definitely their advocate. They cannot voice their feelings, desires, or opinions. Living with them day in and day out, you know them best. Sure, you rely on experts (e.g. vets, trainers, groomers, etc.) to help care for them, but you can choose what advice to follow.

With Ziggy, I had two memorable experiences as his advocate.

The first was with a trainer. We wanted to take Ziggy to the same place we trained Cookie, but unfortunately, they weren’t offering classes at the time. I signed up for a training class through a community education program offered by the school district.

The first week was a dog-free class to go over the class policies. I got a bad feeling but decided to give her a shot. I should have trusted Ziggy’s opinion when he chewed part of her class policies.

Facebook post in 2019 en route to his first class.
Chewed-up policies on the bottom right.

I followed a friend’s advice to listen to the perspective but do things the way you know better. In the first week with Ziggy, we had to all walk in a circle, spaced apart to practice heel / loose leash walking. Ziggy wasn’t quite getting it with her method. I stepped a bit out of the circle so as to not get in anyone’s way and proceeded to teach him the way we taught Cookie. He nailed it. I stopped to praise my nine-month-old puppy. I was yelled at. I yelled back that her methods were outdated and unnecessary (lots of punishments and corrections). I stormed out of the class never to return again.

Facebook post in 2019 post Ziggy's class that I yanked him out of.

During Ziggy’s cancer journey, we switched vets a couple of times. The second time was when I was trying to talk to the vet about switching Ziggy to a home-cooked diet from The Dog Cancer Survival Guide (paid link). He made a few remarks that showed he wasn’t really looking at it, but when he said “Ziggy’s doing great. You don’t need to do anything else,” I knew it was time to find another vet.

I was coming to him with stuff that I wanted to explore and try. He shut me down, and that wasn’t the attitude we wanted on Ziggy’s care team.

Bottom Line: If it doesn’t feel right to you, don’t do it, get another opinion, or at the very least question it. You are their advocate. No one knows them better than you.

Every dog is different

Ziggy and his "crooked" sit.
Ziggy and his “crooked” sit.

A trusted friend and dog trainer (the same one with the advice above) had to beat this one in my head. Whenever we’d talk about Ziggy, often about training matters (like his “crooked” sits), I would compare Ziggy to Cookie. She said this one to me REPEATEDLY.

I don’t have good anecdotes for this one, but when you struggle to teach one something the same way you taught another, remember this. When one seems to like something that the other hated, remember this.

Bottom line: Dogs are as unique and different as we are. Remember that in all aspects of your relationships with them (especially in training), and adjust accordingly.

Trust your gut

Since dogs can’t tell us when something is wrong, they don’t feel well, or they are in pain, it’s up to us to make observations and take action. It’s easy to brush aside some symptoms we see – especially if you’ve overreacted once already or you simply don’t know that a behavior is actually a symptom. But this is where a health journal can come in handy.

When I first noticed Ziggy’s limping, we initially took a rest and wait-and-see approach. We went that route in part because as a puppy we rushed Cookie to an emergency vet thinking she injured a paw (she was walking on it by the time the vet saw her).

After a week or two of observation and no improvement, we made the call to go to the vet. Watching him like a hawk is what led to his early diagnosis.

The symptom of Ziggy’s cancer was incredibly subtle – just him not putting weight on the leg that had the tumor.

Bottom line: trust your gut. Every time you make a choice, you learn from the experience and fine-tune your gut decisions.

Life lesson: don’t worry be happy

Ziggy was happy as can be riding in his stroller in Key West.
Ziggy was happy as can be riding in his stroller in Key West.

One could argue that all dogs teach us this lesson – and it’s true. But Ziggy in particular had no concerns in the world. Whether it was after his amputation, a chemo treatment, a visit to the botanical garden, or the doggy ice cream shop, he was always happy.

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  1. Pingback: Lessons from Chip

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